The Witness
by Cakemixo
Summary: When House and his team take on a teen that saw everything, it's not what they find that makes things interesting.
1. Chapter 1

_I do not own House_

_A/N It's been around two years since I've finished a House story and I am terrified. Please read and review, let me know what you did and did not like about it. This one's comming in chapters._

"He opened up the doors and-and grabbed him. They went west on Terhune."

The air was cold. The building and street reeked from the damp that never seemed to want to lift. Fading fog only amplified the gritty and gray surroundings despite it being late May. The ground glittered with an oily iridescence that seemed to have settled into its own strata over everything. Under a hazy void between two dilapidated buildings and the white noise of traffic, one teenager's words sputtered through at high rate.

Officer Logan Bainbridge stood nearby franticly taking notes. He radioed the call for an Amber Alert to be raised just minutes before, "Now, where did Marshall live? What did he look like?"

Jason pointed behind him while he panted, "He lives two doors away from me," he raised his hand to a fixed position over his own head, "ab- about this tall."

"What did you see again?"

The adolescent wheezed while gesturing wildly under his dark oversized hoodie at the street. He perpetually shifted his weight from foot to foot, "It just happened; one moment Marshall was walking home. Then his huge bald dude reached out of his van-just threw him in and they were gone!"

The officer continued to write as he fired off another question, "What did the van look like?"

"It was grey," the youth sputtered, "b-big and grey."

"Can you tell me anything else about it," as Jason shook his head and the officer forged ahead, "did you see a license plate?"

"No, it happened so fast."

Bainbridge nodded quickly as he quickly finished up his scribble of notes and grabbed his radio from his belt. He fumbled a moment with the setting and lifted it up to report.

Bainbridge barely breathed out his first two words when he heard a noise behind him. It was quick and low; the type of sound that never was a good sign: the thud of a body. He turned around in time to see the youth's body ridged and arched on the sidewalk. His arms fixed straight out in front of himself, hands fisted, eyes starting off blankly at nothing.

The next second, his body went lax and the fit seemed to pass. With no warning, he arched into convulsion again and again as he jerked around in the grass.

Bainbridge wasted no time radioing for an ambulance while he rushed the teenager and rolled him on his side. There, the officer rode out the repeated spasmodic jerks with him as they both waited for medical help to arrive.

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Dr. Gregory House glided through the sliding entrance doors to Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital with practiced ease. Intuitively, he scanned the clinic faces for an appearance of Cuddy and, unfortunately, found her signing something at the nurse's station. His first strategy was to take the long way around, exit via the elevator, and avoid her completely, but she looked up at him midway through his escape and their eyes met for long enough that House corrected course to her.

He knew he was the reason she was in the lobby. He was already a little late for clinic duty. That was supposed to start an hour into his shift that he was significantly late for. But one well practiced hit on the radio alarm clock this morning brought him well over an hour of extra sleep.

His eyes shifted down to the dress she was wearing. It was a nice dress. Chartreuse was the first color that came to mind, but that wasn't exactly right. Though at 110º proof it didn't sound too bad. It was a stark difference to his disheveled appearance with a black shirt and jeans. And it's presence on the grounds of the hospital, during work hours, was planned. The question was, for whom?

"Is it just me, or is the only thing holding that dress up city ordinance? Who's the desperate man?"

Cuddy chose to ignore the comment and instead waved a folder in front of House, "You've got a case."

The promise or threat of a case deterred House not at all, "If you're dressed this nicely, does that mean he's coming to see you here, or did you get all dressed up for me?"

"Fourteen year old male. Has a history of asthma. According to police, while he was questioned he went into tonic-clonic seizures. Emergency CT scan was cle-"

"Cops know what tonic-clonic is?" House pulled a face, "I'd figure they'd just say it was a grand mal."

"They did, but the point is-"

"He's faking." House interrupted as he took the file from her outreached hand and dropped it on the nurse's countertop.

"And what makes you think that?"

"People will do anything to get away from the hot seat-especially when they have something to hide."

She arched at his callus words, "This one was reporting witnessing the abduction of one of his friends."

"The question is," House said completely over her as he took note of her makeup and perfume, "who are you hiding?"

"And either you take this case," Cuddy continued in a warning tone as she picked up the file and again held it out, "or I'm doubling your clinic hours for the month for coming in late _again_."

That stopped House. He a paused moment to get another good look at her bright green attire as he reached for the file. "Tell me," he asked, "are you this rough on your boyfriend after giving him a treat like this?"

He left as she dropped jaw and started to protest.


	2. Chapter 2

House leaned back into the cabinets with coffee in hand as he watched Cameron write down 'tonic-clonic seizures' on the white board. "Anybody have an explanation for having a seizure after watching your friend getting dragged into a car?"

Chase lifted his head at that one, "Do you think the two are related?"

"No," House replied instantly, "But someone's new in Cuddy's life and we all get to pay for that. So, any ideas?" He looked around almost expectantly, "Really."

Foreman, who had been looking at the file since House had tossed his copy on the table, went for it first, "His grandmother was given custody of him just a few months ago because of his mother on drugs. If he's experimenting with them too, that'd cause the seizure."

House nodded, "Fair enough, anything else?"

Cameron leaned forward with the file in her hands, "It could be a chemical imbalance. Poor nutrition could lead to deficiencies."

"What about encephalitis?" Chase asked, "Prior symptoms could have been ignored if they weren't severe."

Cameron regarded the file again, "He's on Theophylline for asthma. If he overdosed, that could cause the seizure."

House nodded again, satisfied, "Alright, run a chem. 20 to rule out chemical imbalances; drug screen to rule out anything he's been experimenting with, and a lumbar puncture to see and infection or if anything's going on in his brain. When you find nothing, send him on his way." He eyed his computer "I'll be here," he said as he abandoned the whole effort and settled in front of his screen while his three fellows filed out with their assignments.

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Jason eyed the long needle that Cameron held from his position on the bed, "That's going in my back?"

Cameron nodded as she leaned forward to meet him more at eye level, "It'll just be for a minute, and it'll tell us fast if something's wrong."

On the other side of the bed, a small, wizened woman stood holding the bed railing. During Cameron's and Chase's introductions they were both courteous, but their cold distance between each other was clear.

"Have you heard anything about Marshall? Police say they're having trouble finding his parents too?"

"I haven't heard," Cameron admitted, "but there's an Amber Alert out for him; he's on the news. There are hundreds of people looking for him now."

Chase addressed both of them, "We're testing a theory as to what caused the seizure." He turned to the Jason, "The sooner we get you better; the sooner you can help the police find your friend."

Jason's eyes went wide, "You're giving Marshall one of those too?"

The off question was asked in all seriousness. It stumped Chase for a moment, "No, this is just for you."

The grandmother nodded in understanding and asked bluntly, "Are you also testing for drugs?"

The adolescent stiffened, "I'm clean."

"Oh, don't lie to me," the response was instantaneous and hard, "That attitude says something else. Those grades say something else."

"You know nothing." The strength between the two betrayed that the argument had been repeated many times before.

There was an uncomfortable silence before Chase broke it with, "We're going to need you to turn on your side. Jason complied and Chase held his legs in position.

Cameron parted the gown at the small of his back. She eyed the intricate but homemade tattoos all along his spine and shoulders. "Where did you get these tattoos?" His forearms also bared them.

When the youth refused to answer, his grandmother responded curtly, "His mother, no less."

With that answer in mind, Cameron sanitized her target region on his back and began her test.

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House scratched his head as he turned down the jazz on his stereo and leafed through the test results again in disbelief. "Two drug screens, a Chem. 20, and a LP, and the only thing we can find is low calcium? Are these readings even right?" He looked up at his three fellows. "Who took the Chem. 20?" The result he focused on was the simple number 7.6 mg/dl. Average range for calcium was 8.4-10.9 mg/dl.

Chase frowned, "I did." At House's accusing look he defended, "I didn't screw it up."

"Low calcium can explain the seizure," House muttered almost to himself, "but the road to this point should be a little more obvious than this." He held the results back at Chase for emphasis, "Ion gradients should be screwing up muscle contraction in his heart, among other things."

Cameron shook her head in agreement, "EKG's normal. He hasn't reported any tingling in extremities."

"And his drug screen are clean," added Foreman "No experimenting, and he didn't overdose on Theophylline."

House sighed, "You were supposed to find nothing and make Cuddy send the kid on his way."

"Slightly low calcium really doesn't explain the seizure," said Foreman as he glanced at Chase, "and without the physical symptoms that should be associated with the low calcium an actual connection is not likely."

"But he was confused," Chase defended, "confusion is a symptom of low calcium."

House looked at the results again. His brow furrowed, "Does Cameron agree?" He shifted his gaze up to hers. Chase did likewise.

Cameron arched her eyebrows in surprise at the question, "He's worried about his friend. He wasn't paying attention to us."

House leaned back in his seat, picked up his giant tennis ball, and casually tossed it against the wall. "What do you suggest?"

The question was aimed at Foreman as was the ball he caught on the rebound. "He had an emergency CT when he first arrived. The results showed him clean of any structural problems." He placed the ball back on the desk, "An MRI scan could rule out any cysts."

House reclaimed and tossed the ball again; this time he caught his own rebound. "Works for me. Foreman, go MRI his head, Chase," he paused and regarded him for a brief moment, "go help Foreman. Cameron, redo the Chem. 20. _Then_ when you find nothing, get him out of here. I'm leaving by four."

As his team left, House turned up his music again.

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"I didn't screw up the Chem. 20." Chase leaned back in the chair as he watched the computer in the observation port beside the MRI.

Foreman chose to ignore that comment as he settled into his own chair and activated the microphone. "Alright, Jason, we're starting the test. We're going to need you to stay as still as you can."

The electromagnetic doughnut dwarfed the patient who gave a shaky "OK." Foreman could hear over the speakers. He turned off the microphone and started the test.

After a few moments of listening to the steady beating of the MRI, Chase repeated, "I didn't screw up the Chem. 20."

Foreman sighed, "It's just House's bored and screwing with us. He's probably pissed off at Cuddy."

"Does he have a reason?"

"Does he ever have one?"

They were silent for several moments as they clicked through the screens of incoming brain slices. Nothing they found was even worth a comment. The steady beating noise continued in the background.

"What the hell?" muttered Foreman as the computer flashed an unauthorized entrance into the MRI room.

A livid woman's voice bellowed from the speakers in the observation port. "You're getting out of there now!"

Reflexively, Foreman initiated an emergency shutdown. The beating stopped in time for him to hear a surprised and almost angry, "What are you doing here?" from the teen on the table.

Foreman looked up into the main room to see Jason's grandmother followed by a burly policeman. Her features were turned up into a scowl. The policeman's face matched it. At the sight of this type of disturbance, Foreman actually left the computer booth to meet them in the main chamber, "Excuse us," he called "we're administering a test; you'll have to come back later."

The wizened woman walked up to her grandson and actually jerked him into a sitting position. The officer continued to stand by the exit. "The testes are over," she called over her shoulder.

"What?" asked Chase as he stood up and pulled away from the computers to pop his head out of the observation port, "Why?"


	3. Chapter 3

House was sitting on his desk with yo-yo in hand as Wilson walked though his office doors full of questions. "Was it true that the kid your patient reported missing was actually a half a state away on vacation with his family? That's why they had so much trouble contacting anyone from home?" the oncologist asked as he settled opposite of House's desk and pulled out a bag of chips.

House released the yo-yo and let it pull its own string across the floor for a moment- walking the dog- before he pulled it back and answered, "Cameron confirmed with a second Chem. 20, calcium levels are low. Low enough he should be showing it before seizures. That means we have a mystery."

"From what I hear, the two are more likely unrelated." Wilson paused for a moment. "I heard that his grandmother pushed her way into the scanning room with an officer in tow, stopped the MRI, and tried to get the kid out from there. She's been ranting at Cuddy for over an hour now."

"I assume there's where you found out." House eyed Wilson's chips casually sitting on his own desk, before snatching them up for himself. "I got Foreman to convince both of them that her son has a cyst in his brain, that our test results would confirm it." He pulled two chips from the bag and ate them.

"And if he doesn't?"

"I'll tell them something else. Kid's sick. He's staying here."

Wilson sputtered on those words. "Wait a second. What is with you?" he asked as he reclaimed the bag of chips, "Everybody lies except the kid who falsely reports kidnappings? According to that policeman with his grandmother, falsely reporting an incident is a class one felon, one year in juvenile detention."

"Every action has a reaction. What they don't tell you is that every action has a precursor-a sine qua non. We're just looking for what." He looked up as Foreman opened the glass door and walked up to the light panel on the wall. "So what did you find?"

"You're wrong, House," Foreman said as he slid the scans on the lit field light, "MRI's clean. And the kid's being discharged as we speak."

House stood and staggered stiffly toward the film for his own analysis. "No he isn't. I'm not releasing him."

"It wasn't your call; Cuddy released him."

At that point, House had already leaned against the wall, eyes glued at the results when those words struck him. He turned to Foreman and didn't even attempt to hide his surprise. He glanced back at Wilson who shrugged in response. With no regard for the two in his office, he lurched back to his desk, palmed his cane, left his office, and walked to the nearest elevator. His temper stewed as he entered into the empty lift and it slowly descended.

As the doors parted, House wasted no time searching the room for Cuddy before spotting that bright green dress and her in it speaking to a nurse over a file near the far wall. "Hey!"

The shout was loud enough to catch nearly everyone's attention as House quickened his pace to close the distance. "You released my patient!"

With the clinic in near stunned silence, Cuddy returned the file to the nurse, "I will get back with you on that." She turned to House. "My office. Now."

Rooted in the same spot he stopped at House stated, "You released my patient that had a seizure of unknown origin and low calcium levels."

"What is wrong with you?" Cuddy asked, "Five hours ago you wouldn't have cared less if he was discharged. What's changed now?"

"I'm his attending. He's my patient. Were you listening to me ten seconds ago or were you too busy looking for your boyfriend?"

"And all you've found is calcium levels a little on the low side and a seizure that has no medical foundation." Her tone to voice was almost haughty with that. In sotto voce she continued, "I spoke to the boy's grandmother. He's been acting up more and more at school, his grades are in the toilet, he lies, and he's pretended to be sick before. He is just looking for attention and has found a very scary way to do it this time. As for his seizure, you were right before you even started on the case, he was faking it." With that has her parting remark, she left for her office; leaving House to watch her dress give a final teasing twirl as she disappeared around the corner.

Now he definitely had to leave by four.

**(TBC)**


	4. Chapter 4

Three Days Later…

Glass doors parted in the adjacent study and House ambled in holding four identical files. He passed his team altogether as he headed straight for the coffee pot in the far corner of the room, but not before dumping all four blue files on the table.

Foreman picked up his copy off the table. "New case?"

With his red mug in hand, House answered back as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "Nope, we got a rerun."

Chase was lightly thumbing though his copy until he heard that and scoffed. "He's back in? Wasn't he in juvenile detention?"

House set his mug at the head of the table and manned the position at the dry erase board with a marker in hand. "Had another seizure."

"Let me guess," Foreman cut in, "it was in front of correctional officers this time."

"That's why we call it a rerun."

"Was there another crazy story to go with that seizure?" asked Foreman. House's lack of answer was telling. "And you're taking him again?" he exasperated.

Cameron, who had already skimmed the file looked up, "It's not like he was released AMA, why are we readmitting him?"

"You're right, it's not like he was released against _Cuddy's_ medical advice, but we never explained his chemical imbalance."

"So Cuddy doesn't know he's back in here?" Cameron asked.

House shrugged. "Cuddy knows what she needs to know." He gestured back to the board. "Can we get started here?"

"It's just low calcium," said Chase in complete disbelief as he pulled back from the file and leaned back in his seat, "This is just a kid that makes up huge lies and doesn't drink his milk."

House abandoned his coffee mug to the table and in his usual scrawl wrote 'Hypocalcemia' across the top of the board. "Who's also had two seizures. His calcium levels are starting to hit the floor. So what if he lies a little more than usual; now he has the heart arrhythmia he should have had three days ago. You think the electrocardiogram's gonna lie when he dies?" House poised a marker over the whiteboard: "Differential diagnosis for low calcium levels."

"Hypoparathyroidism?" asked Chase with little interest in the reply.

House shook his head as he wrote down an abbreviated version of the word, "There's no other evidence of low Parathyroid Hormone," he scrawled a small 'x' beside it, "So that takes out Pseudohypoparathyrodism too. What else?"

Foreman and Cameron picked their heads up and answered as one, "Vitamin D deficiency."

With 'VIT. D' on the board, House turned around muttering as much to himself as to the others, "That would indicate a renal disease, he's had no fever, no abdominal swelling." He put a question mark by that. "Come on, people; give me something else."

"Magnesium deficiency?" asked Cameron.

House quickly wrote down 'Mg' and circled it. "That explains the twitching, and low magnesium is consistent with asthma. Anything else?"

Foreman objected. "He didn't twitch."

"Yeah, the wonderful thing about cops is they can't tell the difference between seizures and break dancing. The cop's account may be no more accurate than the kid's."

"Bone marrow transplant?" asked Chase with a tone that betrayed his dislike of the whole meeting.

"Nothing like that was in his records," Cameron countered.

House pounced on this lack of enthusiasm too with his own ire. "Come on now, Chase. We're talking about a life here, not some theoretical Q and A."

"What about ethylene glycol poisoning?" asked Foreman.

Chase countered this one. "You think the kid's been drinking antifreeze?"

Foreman leaned forward to get a better look at Chase. "Look at his arms and back. They are covered with tattoos. One of them is fresh."

After a beat to think about it, Chase stumbled with, "I don't see what you're getting at."

Foreman was about to elaborate when the realization came to House. "A minor that wants a tattoo can't get it anywhere that has any legitimacy. And those garage tattoo artists use just about anything including Listerine and Gatorade to formaldehyde and ethylene glycol to keep those inks in suspension. Run a serum concentration test. While you're waiting for the results, ready him for hemodialysis to clear the crap out of his system." His team was already starting to leave as House made his final call, "If his calcium falls any lower, ready IV calcium gluconate _and watch his breathing!_"

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House was absorbed watching General Hospital when Chase walked in with lab results. "He tested positive for ethylene glycol poisoning."

Something in the tone of Chase's voice made House lower the volume on his TV and turned his chair to fully face Chase in annoyance. "But there's something you're not telling me. With his calcium levels and the seizures he should have at least a fifty." Without waiting for explanation, he tore the paper from Chase's hand looked at the lab result.

_11 mg/dL_

House scratched his head as he stared at the computer printout. 11 mg/dL. It was a positive exposure of ethylene glycol indeed, but nowhere near the 50 mg/dL or more he was expecting, and certainly not enough to explain his severity of symptoms or for treatment they had ready. "Have you started him on hemodialysis?"

"No," answered Chase as he stepped back. "We wanted to know what you-"

"Cancel it," House interrupted as he stood, "This will wash out of his system in two days. Did you check his magnesium?"

"It's normal," said Chase as he allowed House to pass and followed him out of his office, "What do you want to say to his grand-"

"Say anything you can to keep him here. Lie to her. She's the one who got Cuddy to pull him out of here in the first place." Then he added as it occurred to him, "And get everybody back in here!"

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"Let's make this fast. I need to be out of here by four." House said from his front row seat of the whiteboard. The words 'Ethylene Glycol' joined the other cast out causes of low calcium with a line crossing through it. He propped his running shoes on the glass table.

"Again? Where are you going?" Cameron asked.

House didn't even turn his head to her. "The hooker Cuddy recommended is in high demand. That was the only time she had available." He finally looked back at them. "Let's start."

"There's no reason to keep him here anymore. This fits. Chronic exposure to ethylene glycol can bind with calcium and crystallize in his kidneys. He needs to stop before his kidney's shut down."

That idea had come from Chase as House studied the whiteboard. Some of it had merit, but, "This particular exposure was recent. If this involved the kidney's we'd seen more than just low calcium. Everything else has been normal that we've seen so far. This exposure was probably done with the help of someone else in juvie. He may be lying, but those tests don't."

"Then we're back to square one," said Cameron, "Slightly slow calcium levels and two seizures that don't fit." The silence following that was almost deafening.

"We're not back at square one. He's worse now than when he first got in here." After several moments, House recapped his marker and muttered as much to himself as to the others in the room, "We've never considered sepsis as a cause because of the fact he's had no fever."

"Right," answered Chase, "Fever is one of the most basic of immune responses. The body brings its temperature up to try to get out of the tolerance range of whatever's infecting it. It's the first line of defense."

Foreman nodded. "So no fever, no infection; no infection, no sepsis."

"And low calcium is supposed to show in the beginning with tingling extremities and an abnormal ECG, then seizure." He looked back at Chase and Foreman. "Did Pinocchio do this in the right order?"

Foreman scoffed. "We still don't have definitive evidence that the two are related. It is more likely that he was exposed to something from his environment."

House blinked at that one. "Sure, juvie and home-maybe a few extra curtains in one and a few extra bars in the other; basically the same thing. The homemade spaghetti still tastes the same."

The sarcasm was not lost on Foreman as he shrugged. "He moved in with his grandmother's about a month or so ago. That's when his behavior problems started. Whatever he was exposed to may have started then and now has reached the tipping point."

"Then go find it." At Foreman's surprised look House forced, "You heard me. Don't come back 'till you find something… Go!"

Foreman nodded, stood, and left with his jacket under his arm.

"I want you two," House said as soon as Forman was out of earshot, "to start the kid of broad spectrum antibiotics and run any blood tests you can think of that may tell us something useful."

"You're still thinking infection?" Cameron asked. When House nodded she continued, "then why did you let Foreman-?"

"He's useless right now. He was two minutes from going anyway. Run your tests. I want a picture of what this kids' blood is sending his brain."


	5. Chapter 5

"Why is he back in here?"

That was from Cuddy as she had entered House's office with a file in hand.

House leaned forward from his TV set and rested his hands on the desk. He had just started another show after his team had left. "I got a sick kid. I'm treating him."

"No you're not; you cancelled your treatment for," she flipped to another page from the file, "ethylene glycol poisoning."

"Because he didn't need it."

"But he tested positive for it."

House searched her eyes. "Was it Cameron or Foreman that ratted me out?"

"No one," she flipped back to the beginning of the file, "All I had to do was look up the admittance forms, which I apparently signed in your handwriting; I wonder how that happened."

"Does that sound like something I'd do just to circumvent you?" House asked, "I thought I was just saving you time for more important things, like hospital administrator duties, shopping for new clothes." He indicated his cane at her new bright pink top and a new pair of slacks to go with it. "Can he see anything after you blind him with those colors?"

Cuddy's exasperation deepened at his attempt to change the subject. "This isn't some game, House, that kid is a major liability to us. He fakes seizures to get in; we look bad."

House grunted as he turned back to his TV. "Don't say that too loud; every hospital's gonna want one."

Cuddy sighed in exasperation, "His grandmother is furious. She wants him out of here. The police are waiting on updates on his condition." House made no move to acknowledge that he'd even heard her. She watched with increasing irritation as she realized that she'd lost to the television.

Moments later she rectified that by yanking the extension cord out of the wall, and heard a half angry, "That was the best part!"

She draped the cord plug over the television set. "You have twenty four hours. If you can't find what's wrong with him, he's going back, and you're going to be taking coats at the annual endocrinology dinner next month." She turned to go. Then, a thought occurred to her and she turned back, "And did you get into my online calendar Tuesday and follow me around town?"

House frowned lightly. "That'd be a terrible invasion of privacy."

"And what sick perverted pleasure did you get from following me to the grocery store?"

House shrugged. "With as much garlic at you bought, he's not coming to your place."

With mounting frustration she almost shouted: "There is no boyfriend, House! Do you understand that? When are you going to grow up?"

"When are you going to introduce him to the gang here?" He indicated the hospital and smirked. "Come on, we'd be just like brothers."

Cuddy's expression never changed. But in the span of a heartbeat her face reddened. "Know this: I changed plans for the rest of this week and changed the password. You don't do that again." She turned around and walked out.

House waited a few moments before allowing himself to react. He smiled. His hand found the computer mouse and waved it out of screensaver mode. Then, in one clean motion, he exited out of Cuddy's electronic calendar.

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_There he was. _Jason first saw him out of the corner of his eye weaving in and out of sight between the open blinds. His bald head shined in under the florescent lighting. Broad shoulders stood out - augmented by the think leather jacket. Massive fists protruded from his sleeves. Those black soulless eyes had not seen him yet. _Why was he here?_

"Dude," said Marshall as he pulled his attention off the TV and saw it too. He slipped from his bedside chair, "that's the guy, isn't he? What's he doing here?"

Jason shook his head. "I don't know," he said warily.

The other boy opened the glass door and peered out, "Looks like he's looking for someone."

"You again?" Jason asked as he turned the sound down on the TV.

Marshall sighed as he readjusted his jersey. "He was never after me, dude." He paused for a moment, "He's everywhere you go, right? Is he after you?"

"Why?"

"I don't know." He opened the door and looked out again. "He went around the corner."

"Good riddance."

"You know," Marshall said as he turned up the television sound, "If he can find where you live, and where you're staying at juvie, he's gonna find you here. Did your mom owe him money?"

"I don't know. She might; she owed everybody money," his voice softened, "I don't want to talk about that."

"He might be a hit man, or a stalker."

"That is not cool. Nobody's gonna believe that."

"Not unless they catch him." Marshall turned off the television and stood. He tossed the remote on the bed, "Come on."

"What?"

"He's going to get away if we wait any longer."

"I'm not getting in trouble again."

Marshall held open the glass door, "If we're right, we help them catch him, then you won't be in trouble. Now come on."

Jason hesitated a moment, then wearily got up on unsteady legs.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm dizzy. I still don't feel so good." He hesitated again, then padded barefoot to the open glass door. They both slipped to the corner and peered around the edge. The man was nowhere to be seen. "This is stupid," he mumbled.

"We'll see," Marshall urged.

People passed on either side as they rounded the corner and continued walking down to yet another hallway. Jason stopped and held his head. His vertigo was clear. "He's gone. I'm going back."

"No, wait," turned Marshall, "one more hall!"

Jason shook his head. "No, I'm done." He sighed and something just felt wrong. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

Marshall trotted back to Jason's side, "Wouldn't it be awesome if he were a stalker?"

"Shut up." Jason frowned again and turned the final corner…

… and watched his stalker emerge from his room…


	6. Chapter 6

"Where's Foreman?"

The lone question had come from Wilson as he walked thought the glass door

House responded by flipping to another page of his magazine. "Foreman is out trying to prove me wrong."

Wilson leaned against the set of filing cabinets and crossed his arms. "Does he have something?"

House scoffed, "It's not from grandma's house."

"Then why did you let him go?"

"When he comes back with nothing, I get to do the victory dance."

"And I take it that the rest of your team is doing labs?"

"They know that at 3:59 I turn into a pumpkin."

"Is that why they working like you strapped a bomb under their chair?"

House pulled his bottle of pills from his pocket and dry swallowed one. "They're running every blood screen and culture they can think of. So far they've found nothing. I'm out of here by four."

"You know I'll stick around for that."

"You want to hear the results too?"

"No, I want to see an asshole turn into a pumpkin."

House gave Wilson a sidelong glance from his magazine as Cameron rushed through the glass doors.

"House, the kid, he's missing."

House finally pulled away from his magazine to fully face Cameron. "What, do you think I'm hiding him?"

The blunt force question flagged Cameron's urgency for a moment before she turned back out the door and rushed back into the hallway and out of sight.

House grabbed his jacket and started putting it on as he turned to Wilson and added as though the interruption just seconds before had not occurred, "Did you know Cuddy has a new boyfriend?"

"Wait a second," Wilson sputtered as he watched House pull his nap sack over his shoulder, "you're not leaving are you? You still have nearly an hour left."

House palmed his cane as he reasoned, "While those two are out looking for our little social deviant, nobody's testing. I know they won't get done by four; I'm going home." He opened his glass door. "So, what do you know about Cuddy's boyfriend?"

Wilson frowned as he followed close behind. "How would I know if she had a boyfriend? And how do you?"

"She's like you," he indicated Wilson's light blue shirt and coordinating tie, "Dresses professionally until she has someone to impress." Wilson shook his but House kept going, "Monday her new dress was 110 proof." He reached the elevator doors and pressed with his cane before turning around, "Today she's got something bright pink on.

Wilson shook his head again. "It's spring. She's buying new clothes for the season."

"Not clothes like these, and not with her calendar blocked off after 4:30 with no reason." The elevator doors opened.

Wilson cringed at House's last word and held back instead of following House in. Then something caught his eye. "Is that you patient back there?"

House leaned out of the elevator and followed Wilson's gaze down the corridor to an adolescent wandering much further down the hall barefoot and in a hospital gown. He looked this way and that as if frantically lost or searching. A few moments later he rounded the far corner. "Do you think there's a cash reward out for him yet?" He ducked back into the elevator.

Wilson sighed and went into pursuit of the youth, leaving House as the doors closed.

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Something was really wrong. Out of the elevator, Jason weaved though swarming of people. He had defiantly gotten up too quickly. The sides of his head rushed with pressure and noise.

Marshall, in actual clothes and shoes quickly passed him in pursuit of the man he'd seen everywhere. His 'stalker' as Marshall had put it over and over again in the elevator had entered a lift. Marshall was absolutely certain it was to the second floor. Several yards ahead of Jason, Marshall turned to meet Jason's eyes; then he pointed further up ahead of him_… there_.

As though out of the starting gate, Marshall shot forward after him. Jason followed suite. Jason again saw the problem with no shoes as he made a wide turn at the corner and a wave of nausea set in. "Wait up!"

He leaned against the wall and could not help but to pant as he searched the foot traffic. A quick search for jerseys, sneakers, anything that looked like Marshall turned up nothing. _Where did he go?_ The thought reverberated in his head amidst the other background noises. He glanced over his shoulder and searched the busy hallway full of unfamiliar faces. Then he turned back. Marshall was there just seconds earlier.

"Excuse me," called a voice from behind, you're not supposed to be out here."

Jason turned to see a towering man coming up to him. His expression was not a happy one. With his blue shirt, the dark tie, the badge on his chest, it could only be one thing. "Officer, the man's here! We just saw him." He pointed the direction he last saw Marshall. "They went this way." He started back in that direction…

Until his hand was grabbed. "I think you need to go back to your room," the officer said.

Jason grunted. "No! He's here! We have to catch him." He tore his hand free and jogged up the further into the hall. "He went this way. We have to find Marshall." He turned the corner and spotted Marshall's jersey amongst the sea of other people. "There's Marshall!" He pointed as he turned back to the officer.

After watching silently for a long moment, the officer finally opened his mouth. "Jason, where's Marshall?"

The question was not what he was expecting. "He's right there."

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"Where? Point him out to me." Wilson watched with fascination as Jason failingly gestured into the empty dead end corridor of offices.

"He's right here, come on, officer, the man went this way too."

"Jason," Wilson tried again, "There's nobody here but us."

There's wasn't even the slightest acknowledgement of understanding, not hesitation at the words, Jason shot back around and cried, "He went this way. Come on!"

Wilson watched as the youth started forward again and fell. His body waved under a seizure. Rote training gripped Wilson as he yelled down the other side of the hall, "Call a code!" Then he twisted back to youth whose fit had nearly passed and uttered: "What is going on in your brain?"


	7. Chapter 7

Foreman, Chase and Cameron were already seated in House's adjacent conference room when House ambled in; Wilson at his heels. House beelined for the whiteboard, "What did you find from our now comatose kid?"

Chase answered, "Test showed he has low hematocit and anemia."

"Did you find the cause?" asked Wilson who had taken a position leaning against the wall.

Cameron shook her head, "It looks like iron deficiency but his iron levels are in normal range."

"That's great," House said, "What else did you find?"

"Nothing," Chase said.

House popped the cap off his marker, "Well, that makes three symptoms." He wrote 'L. Hematrocrit' and 'Anemia' down.

Cameron lifted her head, "That only makes two."

House tilted his head Foreman's way, "I take it you found nothing?" Foreman shook his head. House turned back to the board and wrote 'Hallucinations'.

"Where did you get that from?" asked Cameron.

"Wilson's call," said House as he recapped his marker and watched him expectantly. "Was it real or was he lying?"

Wilson shrugged and held out his hands as if to say 'I give up'. "I'm convinced he was trying to help."

House turned back to the whiteboard. "Works for me."

Foreman frowned. "Help?"

"Help find a kidnapper."

"Do we have anything else that goes up here?" House asked.

"We told you everything we have." Cameron said.

"This kid's got a very real problem but since there's no big arrows pointing next to it, let's go for subtle. Everything's a clue. Let's put everything on the table." House pointed the marker at Wilson, "You're gossip sit-though with Cuddy and Grandma, what'd that tell you?"

Wilson frowned, "She told Cuddy he acted up in class, his grades are dropping, he's claimed to always forget to do his homework."

House nodded and scribbled on the board. "Alright, we're having memory problems."

House turned to Chase. "You've said he was confused during one of the tests."

"And you ignored that." Chase answered.

"Because you weren't insistent enough."

Chase shrugged, "Only one person in the room that was sick and he didn't know who the test was for."

House nodded. "He's been acting up more since he's been with his grandma." He wrote "Altered Mental Status" on the board and stepped back as he pointed to it. "Now you take that, along with the confusion, seizures, anemia, and low hematocrit and what do you have?" His tone left no question that he already had an answer formulated in his head.

"Porphyria?" asked Chase.

"But there is no family history of Porphyria," said Cameron

House shook his head, "There doesn't need to be. I'm thinking Acquired Sideroblastic Anemia. It explains everything."

"It still doesn't explain the calcium levels," said Cameron.

House paused on that as he absorbed the writing on his dry erase board again. "You're still watching that? What'd his last blood work say?"

Cameron pulled out the lab printout before answering, "Still lower than normal, but rising."

"He's still clearing ethylene glycol out of his system." Chase said.

"That exposure was before his last hospital admittance," Cameron said. "He was originally admitted for low calcium."

House grunted as he turned back to the board. "Thank you, buzzkill." He settled back into a chair. "Every test we run, the norms are designed to fit for ninty-five percent of the population. He may just have low calcium."

Foreman pointed out. "Fine, you've explained the calcium. But this porphyria points to an environmental cause. I've already been to his place; it's clean."

The silence in that wake finally followed with House turning to face Foreman. "You idiot. You searched at the wrong place."

"What?" Foreman interjected.

"Where was he before he was sent to live with his grandmother?"

"He was practically living on the streets while his mother was looking for her next hit."

"So," Wilson asked, "He got into something months ago and is now showing signs?"

"What if there was a tipping point?" House pulled himself off his chair and paced, "Kid's spent years moving from one crappy place to another. What would they all have in common?"

"They're homeless shelters, abandoned areas, rundown buildings, garages?" said Foreman.

"They're probably old," quipped Cameron.

"He'd have to have been accumulating it for over a year before this tipping point." Wilson pointed out.

By that point House had fully faced away from the group and was staring at the symptoms on the board when he heard that last remark. As if on cue, he turned and exited out the door giving only a small head tilt for his team and Wilson to follow.

As House directed his way to and in the elevators, he began to speak. "It's lead poisoning. He's probably been getting it from the paint off the walls, the crap in the garages." He pressed for his patient's floor. "It was a domino effect, his lead levels were the first to hit the tipping point and the first domino fell."

"The hallucinations; the seizure; the coma." Foreman grimaced.

"And the low calcium. Lead was roaming around his system, but it wasn't testing as calcium." Wilson said

House nodded. "And that would have been all that fell when he moved to grandma's house, but as any teenager goes he had to go and do something stupid. The ethylene glycol lowered his actual calcium levels, and his body responded. Lead has an oxidation state of +2, same as calcium. He's been accumulating it in his bones for years."

Cameron caught on as they all filed into the elevator. "So his bones released calcium and lead to compensate for the sudden serum concentration drop."

House nodded. "It bathed his system in lead."

"But what about the anemia?" asked Chase.

"The same oxidation state matches the iron core of a heme. When it came time for the main molecule in his red blood cells to form, it would be as if lead had taken a pair of scissors to it. He has acute and chronic lead poisoning. That was the sine qua non." House pushed himself out of the elevator.

"Then why are you going here?" asked Wilson following behind the others, "You need to confirm for heavy metal toxicity."

"Because this is faster," said House as he entered Jason's room and put on a latex glove. He walked over to the teen lying on the bed and pulled back his lips. "See that?" His team leaned in closer and quickly found what he was referring to. Along his gums was a line of blue. "Start him on chelation therapy."

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House strolled into Cuddy's office several hours later. "I know why you're wearing yellow today," He said as he opened the door.

Cuddy frowned from her desk. "Then I know what you're going to be doing one evening next month. How's your patient?"

House sat opposite of her and propped both feet up on the table. "He's had his first chelation. Going to need to stay here a while. Juvie lawyers like having good evidence for judges; Grandma's not so mad, so that makes everybody happy." House stared a Cuddy for a long moment before announcing, "Kevin Yurks is so not for you. And I know you know it."

Cuddy didn't even attempt to hide her irritation, "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking a little duck that's on his way to administrator A little bit of wine? Conspiring with the enemy hospitals?" From his reclined position, he took his cane and used it to rummage through her waste bin beside her desk, "Sex."

Cuddy jerked the trashcan away from House; then she closed her eyes as the disgusting realization came to her, "You followed me."

"I'm surprised you went for the home run when you don't even like the guy."

"There was no sex, House!"

"He couldn't do it? Is that why you're breaking up with him?"

Cuddy gave House a long angry look before facing back to her computer. "I didn't like his personality." She admitted softly.

"Fair enough." House said as he stood and walked to the glass double doors and paused, "So, for agreeing with you, can I not be taking coats at that endocrinology dinner?

"You will be sober the whole time as well."

"I figured as much." He walked out.


End file.
